When the World Ends
by jessewrites
Summary: The way the world ends, as seen by Eonwe, son of Manwe, herald of the Valar, based on parts of the Silmarillion


Title: When the World Ends

Author: Jesse

Rating: PG

Warning: mild, vague violence

Disclaimer: not mine, blah…

Summary: The way the world ends, as seen by Eonwe, son of Manwe, herald of the Valar, based on parts of the Silmarillion

Note: There are some brief Christian religion references. These are purely my take on things and have no bearing on the actual Tolkien mythos.

Eonwë sat quietly in contemplation at the feet of his father and lord. The Herald of the Valar, the Son of Manwë they called him. He was to stand at the right hand of Tulkas when Melkor warred again with the Valar. _Mightiest of the Maia, right. I don't feel mighty._

"Brooding again, Eonwë?" Ilmarie, his sister, stood before him.

He smiled. "Nay, just thinking."

Varda's daughter and handmaiden blew a raspberry at him. Glancing at the sky, Ilmarie said teasingly "Sunset soon."

Eonwë nodded and half-smiled. "I'm well aware, sister."

"What are you worried about?" She demanded when that declaration did not immediately cheer him up. "You've been 'thinking' an awful lot lately."

For a long moment, Eonwë just looked at her, and then he said softly, "The End draws nigh. The Valar, father and mother too, look tired. Old even. And" he dropped his voice, "Eärendil says Melko is restless."

"Are you afraid?" She asked softly. She was, if he was right.

"Nay. I have seen, and been privy to Melko's power. It is men I worry for. What will happen to them?"

Briefly, she touched his shoulder. "You care for the mortals like no other of our kind, brother. They think you would give you life for them."

Blue eyes regarded Ilmarie solemnly. He remembered the bite of a whip, a crushing weight, the inability to breathe. He remembered days of torture at Melkor's hands. "I have," he murmured.

Lightly, Ilmarie touched his chin. "Smile, brother. Here comes Urwendi."

A slightly goofy grin on his face, previous mood forgotten, Eonwë rose to greet the Maia elves called Arien. Not wearing a corporeal form, the sun's protector could only swirl briefly around Eonwë in a cloud of fire and heat, before heading towards the Door of Night. A semblance of a hand lingered on his cheek. When Urwendi was gone, he touched the burn as it healed, his eyes growing distant again.

"If you're right," Ilmarie began hesitantly, "About the End of Days, it will not be long before the sun will not be needed and she will return."

"I…" Eonwë trailed off helplessly. "Somehow I'm not so sure."

Suddenly Ilmarie called out, "Tillion!"

Eonwë looked up, surprised. "Tillion!" He boomed in his best herald voice. "What are you doing?"

The Maia of the moon, however, paid them no heed and continued out the Door of Night.

A deep sense of foreboding flooded the siblings. For a moment there was nothing, and then a light as of fires flared outside the Door. Moments later, a white shape came winging towards them. "Elwing," Eonwë breathed.

The woman landed and bowed to Manwë in his great seat. She gasped. "Melko has struck! Even now Eärendil works to strike him from your skies."

Eonwë glanced at the door. It was flung open and Wingiliot, Eärendil and the Silmaril bright at its prow, battled the black shape of Melkor. He couldn't force himself to care in that moment; his fear and foreboding were too great. "Urwendi?" He asked fearfully.

"I'm sorry Eonwë," Elwing said softly, "She and Tillion…"

Eonwë closed his eyes and turned away.

An enraged cry and a crash brought Tulkas leaping to his feet. "Eonwë!" he called sharply, "Grieve later! Melko approaches!" The Vala moved towards the edge of the Ring of Doom.

Grimly, anger flashing in his blue eyes, Eonwë unsheathed his sword and moved to Tulkas's side.

To their surprise, human with a sword interrupted Melkor's rush with a crash. "Turambar!" Eonwë exclaimed and he and the Vala leapt to Turin's aid.

For many long moments, there were no sounds except the earth groaning as Grond struck it and the clash of steel. Eonwë fought with the strength of his anger at Urwendi's death, and Melkor fell back from his assault. Eonwë gave a cry as Melkor struck him in the ribs with the mighty hammer and sent him tumbling.

With his sword out of reach, Eonwë rolled over to glare insolently at Melkor. Melkor had chosen who he felt was the greatest threat to him and was determined that he would get Eonwë out of his way. He raised Grond and brought the hammer down towards the Maia.

With a yell, Eonwë desperately flung himself out of the range of the hammer. He almost made it. The Hammer of the Underworld crashed down on the Maia's right leg, crushing his foot and calf. Even as the hammer stroke fell, Melkor gave a great cry as Gurthang, the black sword, buried in his back.

Eonwë looked from Turin Turambar to the broken black sword and said softly, "Thus is the line of Hurin avenged, as are all men."

Wordlessly, Turin helped Eonwë stand and limp up the hill. Ilmarie met them part way up, and supported her brother's other side. They helped Eonwë settle on the steps at Manwë's feet and the Maia closed his eyes and slumped against his sister.

Vairë, Namo's wife, fussed over Turin and Nessa fussed over Tulkas. Ilmarie healed Eonwë badly bruised ribs, but could not reach his leg to do anything about it.

Manwë cleared his throat, looking pointedly at his son.

Eonwë looked at his sister and requested softly, "Hand me the standard?" She handed it to him and he levered himself to his feet using the banner. Leaning heavily on the teak staff, Eonwë raised his voice and cried to all who had come, frightened by the loss of light, "Hail Manwë, Lord of the Airs, Agent of Eru and High King of Arda! Hear now all ye Children of Illuvatar, and be put at ease!"

Manwë rose and spoke, but Eonwë paid little attention. The Maia sagged against the standard of his father. Ilmarie made as if to go to him, but he shook his head, offering her a tenuous smile.

Limping forward, Eonwë moved to the center of the Ring of Doom. When Manwë was finished speaking, he nodded at his herald. Eonwë raised his voice again. "Let the mountains crumble and the seas roar! Let the earth be broken and Arda become unmarred once again!" Eonwë turned to Namo and said, "In the name of Eru, the One, let Feandro be sent for, and let the evil of Melko be undone!" To Ulmo, the herald commanded, "And let Osse come with his burden!" Turning to Oromë, he said "And let Alatar bear forth his!" At last, turning his gaze to the sky, Eonwë cried, his voice echoing about the plains of Valinor, "Come down, Eärendil with that with which ye have been charged!"

Feandro and Eärendil arrived almost simultaneously. Osse and Uinen arrived moments later bearing a casket between them. Alatar arrived last, bearing a nearly perfectly round rock. Eärendil set the circlet bearing the Silmaril on Feandro's brow. Osse opened the casket and Alatar broke the stone and the other two Silmarili were given unto their maker.

Eonwë asked Feandro, "Would ye now give forth unto Yavanna that which ye hold dear, that the light of the Two Trees be replenished?"

"I would," Feandro answered and saying thus, the dark-haired Noldo bore the three gems to Yavanna where she sat beneath the Trees. All of the Valier went to her side and for long they bent in counsel. After a time, a blossom grew on Laurelin the Fair and the Tree shone gold again.

Eonwë sank back down on the stair, his eyes closed. The light of the golden tree would ever remind him of another light, a gift of hope to the children of Eru guided by a spirit more fiery than even Melkor had dared reach for. The sounds of celebration from Tuna failed to bring his from his thoughts. He did not notice that the halls of waiting were emptied and the elves were home at last. Only when his foot suddenly ceased hurting did he look up to see Ilmarie standing before him.

"Look," she commanded, "Now go to them"

Mortals, hundreds of them, were gathered on the Plains of Valinor. Eonwë smiled. Of course Eru would not separate his children. There were faces he recognized from the War of the Great Jewels and a few from other times as well. Elessar and Undomiel, Elros, Beor, Elendil, Huor, Hurin, Theoden, Eowyn, Barahir, Beren, Luthien, Halmir, Morwen, Emeldir, Rian, Eomer, Nienor, Isildur, Anarion, Elendur, Hador and many others. A group of a dozen or so seemed to be leading them. Smile still on his face, Eonwë strode to greet them.

One of the twelve leaders came forward. He took Eonwë's hands and touched the pale scars that marred the palms. "Teacher," he asked, "Where do you want us?"


End file.
